


Down for the Count

by thegirlwhofangirled



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, F/M, Oral, Smut, This Wasn't Supposed To Be Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-25
Updated: 2015-03-25
Packaged: 2018-03-19 14:30:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3613473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegirlwhofangirled/pseuds/thegirlwhofangirled
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Moving this from my tumblr where someone requested the prompt #34 - “If you keep looking at me like that we won’t make it to a bed”</p>
<p>Many thanks to the lovely ladies at BFFNET who helped with the Beta-ing</p>
    </blockquote>





	Down for the Count

**Author's Note:**

> Moving this from my tumblr where someone requested the prompt #34 - “If you keep looking at me like that we won’t make it to a bed”
> 
> Many thanks to the lovely ladies at BFFNET who helped with the Beta-ing

When Clarke arrives at her apartment, the only thing she want is to take a shower and cuddle with her boyfriend, maybe some lazy sex afterwards. Her plans kind of go to hell when she gets there and finds Bellamy and Raven consoling a heartbroken Nathan.

“He and Monty had a fight.” Raven offers quietly when Clarke joins them.

She feels for her friends, truly, she does. But the last thing she needs right now is to be drowning in relationship problems, especially when they’re not her own. She’s not _that_ heartless, though, so she sighs and throws Nathan a sympathetic look before jumping into the conversation to give some insight into her friends’ dilemma. She does her best to be supportive and stay focused on the conversation at hand, but her eyes continuously find Bellamy. Maybe it’s the wine, or maybe it’s the ridiculous way in which Bellamy’s shirt showcases his arms, but soon enough Clarke finds herself stepping away from the conversation claiming she needs a shower.

She’s just finishing getting changed from her shower, fingers playing with the top button of her blouse when she hears the bathroom door open. Bellamy closes the door behind him and rests his weight against it, giving Clarke a questioning look.

“Everything okay?” Bellamy asks.

Clarke leans back, resting her weight against the bathroom counter; she’s too tired to even stand up straight, and manages a tiny shrug in response while lowering her eyes.

“Shit day at work?” He asks again.

Clarke pulls up eyes back up with a nod.

Bellamy’s worried face morphs into a mischievous smile as he steps closer to her, trapping her body with his hips against the edge of the sink.

“Wh-what are you doing?” Clarke speaks for the first time.

Instead of answering, Bellamy eyes darken seductively, the corner of his mouth lifting in that way that makes her want to kiss the smugness right off his face. He reaches for the buttons of her shirt and starts to undo them tantalizingly slow, starting from the ones at the base of her throat. As his hands reach her breasts, the backs of his fingers brush against the curve of her flesh, sending small feathers of pleasure skittering across her skin. 

Her eyes flutter shut, and she finds herself leaning closer to his touch, her breathing coming faster now. While she would be more than happy to oblige him, their friends are still outside and the last thing she wants is for them to bear witness to some bathroom sex.

She tells Bellamy as much, only to have him look at her innocently.

“What?” He whispers, “I didn’t get to give my girl a proper greeting.” Then he’s leaning down and catching her lips with his own. As always, the kiss steals the breath from her lungs and he’s pushing her blouse off her shoulders until it hits the ground with a soft thump.

They’ve been doing this for years now, but Bellamy’s touch on her skin still holds some kind of strange power over her. His hands are caressing her neck, and when one of them finds its way into her hair and pulls her head to the side, Clarke all but moans into his mouth. She can feel his satisfied smirk against her skin when his lips leave her mouth to kiss his way down her neck. Not one to give up easily, Clarke snakes her arms around his neck, pulling him close until her breasts brush shamelessly against his chest.

“ _Fuck_ , Clarke.” He groans, eliciting a smirk from Clarke.

A sharp rap on the door, followed by Raven’s voice causes them to spring apart.

“Clarke, is everything okay?”

Clarke is biting her lips, trying to hold back laughter, while Bellamy just wiggles his eyebrows and returns to his task, sucking bite marks down her neck.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Everything’s fi-aaaaaah.” Clarke whimpers.

She looks down at Bellamy and pulls at his hair, he seriously needs to stop. He smiles up at her from the newly purple spot blooming on the slope of her breast.

“Ugh, please don’t tell me you guys are having sex right now?” Raven cries from the other side of the door.

Before Clarke has a chance to reply, Bellamy is standing up and stealing a kiss from her lips, licking his way into her mouth. Too soon, he breaks apart from her, leaving Clarke gasping and reaching out for him, pupils blown wide.

“Princess, if you keep looking at me like that we won’t make it to bed.” Bellamy breathes hoarsely.

Clarke fists her hand in his t-shirt and pulls him closer, jumping just enough to wrap her legs around him.

“Raven?” Clarke calls through the door, trying to keep her breathing steady.

“Yes?” She responds tentatively.

“If you don’t want to be scarred for life I suggest you grab Nathan and head out. Right now. “

“Dammit, Blake, can’t keep it in your pants long enough to help a friend in a crisis?” Raven whines.

Bellamy shakes his head at his girlfriend’s antics and buries his head in her hair. With the sound of the front door closing, Bellamy wraps his arm around Clarke’s waist and pulls her hard against him. With one hand cupping the curve of her ass, and the other fumbling with the buttons of her pants, Bellamy struggles to get the bathroom door to open.

Of course, instead of helping, Clarke laughs at his failed attempts and dips her head to kiss his pouting lips. Once finally in their bedroom, Bellamy drops a shrieking Clarke on their bed, all the while giving her a languid appreciative glance.

Clarke’s aware that her hair’s a mess, despite her “relaxing” shower. She still looks fatigued and _possibly_ like something the cat dragged in, and yet all it takes is one look from Bellamy to make her feel like the sexiest woman in existence.

“If you’re done ogling me I could use a little help here.” Clarke teases, trying to shimmy out of her pants.

Just seconds later, Bellamy is standing by the foot of the bed dragging her pants off, and crawling his way up on the bed. She’s only wearing her bra and panties when he drapes his body over hers, which has her shivering at the sensation of the fabric of his clothes grazing over her flushed skin. He secures a place between her legs and makes an executive decision to get better acquainted with her chest by kissing his way around her breasts and nipping at the expanse of skin available.

“What _is_ it with you and my boobs?” Clarke gasps with an arch of her back, relishing in the feeling of his teeth grazing a nipple.

“Fucking amazing,” He murmurs, causing Clarke to snort.

“You’re not so bad yourself.” She laughs, squirming beneath him as he licks between the valley of her breasts.

Bellamy pulls back to roll his eyes at her. After a moment, he raises a challenging eyebrow and presses his weight against her and with a snap of his hips, his member is grinding against her pelvis, evoking a delicious gasp from Clarke. The friction from his denim jeans grazing against her flesh sends a jolt of electricity through Clarke’s body, and she’s pretty sure that if Bellamy doesn’t do something about it soon, she’s going to end up rubbing against him like a cat in heat.

He looks down at her when she lets out a whimper and whispers against her lips. “I got you, baby.”

Before she knows it, he’s hooking his thumbs in her thong, dragging it down roughly, and burying his face between her legs.

“ _Jesus Christ_ , Bellamy. Warn a girl!” Clarke lets out a hiss, toes curling against the sheets as she fights to anchor herself.

She feels the rumble of his chuckle against the deepest part of herself and blushes. Defeated, she lets her head fall back and a strangled moan escapes her mouth at the sensation of his lips against her. The lazy strokes of his tongue against her clit have Clarke writhing and biting her lower lip to keep from crying out. Like everything else when it comes to Bellamy, his sole purpose seems to be making her come undone beneath his touch. She starts to bring her thighs closer and he brings up a hand to push them apart, the other hand digging into the warm flesh of her ass, and devours her with such finesse it brings tears to her eyes.

The pressure builds low in her stomach, and has Clarke keening as Bellamy pulls back and teases her. She practically growls at him when he brings her close to edge only to stop just short of toppling her over into the oblivion. She’s lost all strength in her legs but Bellamy keeps her in place with his hand, keeping her open and accessible, offering that sweet torture with his mouth.

“Bellamy, _please_.” Clarke whines, pulling at his hair with her hands roughly.

It’s with one last flick of his tongue and a come hither motion of his finger, that he has her tumbling over the edge and letting out a strangled cry. He crawls his way up the bed and kisses her mouth, before holding her as the waves of pleasure wash over her. Clarke lets out a contented sigh and snuggles closer, or at least tries to because right now she can barely think. Her former aches of exhaustion are now replaced by ones of pleasure, and she wants nothing more than to stay wrapped in the arms of the man she loves. 

“I’m returning the favor,” Clarke mumbles. “... Once I get my strength back,” she clarifies tiredly.

She feels Bellamy breathe out a soft chuckle before dropping a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“Sure thing, princess. Now get some sleep.”


End file.
